


Only Common Sense Can Stop Me

by Gaqalesqua



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Banter, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fellatio, Fingering, Smut, Voice Kink, blowjob, i've been craving Deacon dirty talk and it's avery's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6830311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out, Charmer is Charmer, and Nora is Nora, and the two are really, really different. </p><p>Especially about public decency.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Common Sense Can Stop Me

“You don’t have an umbrella in that sack of shit hanging around your shoulders, do you?” the spy complained, as the dark grey clouds above them spat out huge, cool drops of rain. “I mean one that works. Or semi works. Hell, I’ll take a _really_ big leaf at this point.”

“Suck it up, Deeks,” his companion chuckled. “This isn’t half as bad as the storms from when I was a kid, and even better, there’s no rads in this one.”

“Oh yeah, because that makes it _so_ much better,” he muttered, tugging his hood further over his head. He watched her shoulders shake with gentle laughter, her pace a confident saunter down the ruined streets of Boston, a little beacon of Vault blue against the Commonwealth grey. “Besides, you still hate snow!”

“Snow is evil,” she fired back. “And cold. I hate the cold.”

“Sure, buddy, but nobody ever had a good clean fight with _sand_ ,” he groused, following her through the gates of Diamond City.

“Was that a fucking _pun_ ,” she hissed, hitting the walkway of the marketplace and watching the store vendors huddle beneath their roofs. “Seriously, you people. It’s just _rain_. It’s like a free bath.”

“Yeah, okay, Charmer,” Deacon began, “forget the 2077 standards you hold so freakin’ dear. If we get too much rain, we could get all sorts of nasties. Now let’s just get to your place so I can steal all your towels and coffee.”

“Deeks, it’s like travelling with a kid,” she complained, reaching her door, already fishing for her keys. “A big, whiny kid who likes to play dressup.”

“I am a _spy_ ,” he corrected once they were inside. “And a grownup. Who has just spotted your couch. I’m gonna roll in it.”

“Deacon, no!” she snapped. “Look, you know where I keep the towels. If you really have to sit on my couch, can’t you at least get out of your wet clothes first?”

He dipped his glasses down to look at her and waggled his eyebrows with a grin as he made his way over to the chest of drawers and pulled out a clean towel. She disappeared into her kitchen area and he heard her turn on the hot plate, a coffee brewer being filled and coffee grounds being shaken. He grasped at the sodden t shirt and pulled it slowly over his head, hearing the wet slap of the cloth as it came off. His pompadour was sodden, and he tossed it aside, hanging the t-shirt over some railings she’d scavenged and attached to the wall for just this sort of thing. He had to admit, falling in with a mechanic had been a brilliant idea.

Deacon took a moment to pause, then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Oh god, the feeling of the sodden denim pulling at his skin was making his face twitch in disgust. He kicked his shoes across the room as he worked them over his thighs, placing the trousers with his wet shirt and looking down. Well, one more thing to go.

He was working the tight, clingy material of his boxers down his calves, making little whimpers of horror and revulsion, a towel just about wrapped around his waist, when Charmer reappeared from the kitchen.

“Fuck, Dee!” she yelled, spinning on her heel. “A little warning?”

“No, no, I’m good,” he managed, feeling blood rush to his face. The tips of his ears burned.

“I even made you coffee, and this is how you repay me?” she called, as he hastily wrapped himself in a towel, huddling into the sofa.

“I promise I won’t charge for the striptease,” he bargained, watching her approach him, her Vault suit darkened by water and moving with a slightly gross slick sound. She chuckled, handing him a mug of steaming coffee.

“Deeks, I’m flattered,” she muttered, placing her own mug down on the table and kicking off her shoes. “Really.”  

“Any time, Charmer,” he told her, leaning back into the sofa. He noticed her lining up with the couch like she was gonna- “hell no, you’re not sitting down, not like that!”

“My couch,” she argued. “If I want to sit in my wet Vault suit on my own couch, I think I’m entitled to it.”

“Oh god,” he said, blanching. “Seriously? You’re not uncomfortable?”

“It’s like a swimsuit,” she replied.

“Floridians,” he muttered.

“Okay, fine,” she said, her tone gentle and placating. “I’ll get out of the suit. You baby.”

“Civilised human being,” he corrected, wiping water off his brow. She rolled her eyes, standing up and unzipping the suit. She was peeling it down her shoulders when Deacon’s brain lit up signals, and it was being shimmied down to her waist by the time blood started running south. Oh, shit. Oh god. Charmer had _really_ nice skin. Really nice, shiny skin, with water droplets running down her back. Droplets that looked like they needed his tongue to- _Christ_ , okay, her ass was pretty good too.

“Maybe, maybe you have a point,” she murmured, as she slid the suit down her calves. “Oh god, Deacon, actually, that was a really good idea.”

“Glad-” he licked his lips, his throat suddenly cracking, “glad to help, Charmer.”

She let out a contented sigh as she stepped out of the suit and hung it up on the railing with Deacon’s things, and he had to stifle a moan when she reached for the clasp of her bra and undid it with one hand. She nonchalantly retrieved a towel from the dresser and then dropped her wet knickers on the floor, tossing them aside and for one or two glorious moments where he _absolutely was not staring at Charmer’s hips and ass,_ Deacon got an eyeful of her body beneath the suit.

Apparently, Charmer and Nora had very different levels of public propriety. When Nora was being _Nora_ , this, any of this? She would’ve been stuttering, blushing, cute and shy, eyes averted, skin hot with embarrassment. But _Charmer_ …Charmer laid herself out across the sofa in a thin towel and _stretched_ , and Deacon was a mess. Her eyes closed, and she inhaled deeply, and Deacon watched her chest rise and fall with the breath. He almost didn’t want to tell her she’d just stripped in front of him in case it ruined anything.

“You’ve gone quiet, Dee,” she murmured. “What are you thinking?”

“Things,” he said, his voice cracking. “You know. Watching my buddy get naked. Still…processing that.”

He watched the red flush creep up her face and her cerulean eyes blinked open slowly.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Yeah…you did.”

She fidgeted, picking at the towel, pressing her lips together.

“But…you didn’t try and stop me,” she pointed out, looking at him briefly.

“Well,” he began. “I…guess I didn’t.”

His dick was starting to throb a little at the sight of his wet, naked friend gazing at him out the corner of her eye. He was suddenly aware of those eyes darting down to his lap and he bit his lip in embarrassment. Yeah, he was probably pitching a tent right now.

“Right,” she breathed, her face still red. She swallowed. “Right.”

“Charmer-”

She started pulling the pins out of her hair, placing them down by her coffee. She picked that up and took a gulp, and he briefly remembered his own, taking a mouthful of the hot, bitter liquid and feeling the warmth spread down his body. He placed the mug back, and the moment he turned to face her there was a very different kind of warmth on him, a slightly damp warmth covered by the rasp of a towel, and Charmer was lying in his arms, her face inches from his.

“I’m gonna ask once,” she said softly, her eyes steely with resolve. “Deeks…Deacon…do you want to roll around on my couch doing something other than drinking coffee?”

“Oh, I dunno,” he managed, his breathing increasing the more she pressed against him. “That’s good coffee.”

She laughed, and then he cupped her face in his hands and drew her mouth to his. Charmer’s lips were soft, insistent on his own, and she tasted like coffee when he slipped his tongue between her lips and stroked hers gently. Her moan sent shivers down his spine, a delicious, husky sound that he enjoyed so much that he sucked softly on the muscle until she did it again. He slid his leg between hers and listened to her gasp, her hips rolling over it, cupping her towel-covered backside as her damp skin moved along his. Her arms raised to slide around his shoulders and their bodies parted briefly, long enough for the towel to part and drop.

Deacon’s hands grasped the towel and pulled it up, hands returning to the plush expanse of her ass and squeezing. Charmer moaned into the kiss, his fingers stroking and pulling at the flesh. It had a direct effect, tugging at the sensitive skin between her legs, and his eyes opened briefly to see her brows twitch, face already moving into an expression of pleasure. Their lips pulled away and she moaned at the loss, but Deacon didn’t leave her alone for long, drawing a rough, wet line with his tongue up her neck before biting down on the flesh. She bucked, forcing herself against his thigh, and Deacon almost laughed at the vicious cycle she’d locked herself into.

Her nails scratched against his back and he rolled against her, still throbbing.

“Charmer,” he breathed after releasing her skin. “Fuck…”

“I’m trying to,” she chuckled, reaching for his towel. She unwrapped it from his waist and exposed him, and he was treated to a few brief kisses before the woman was mouthing her way down his jaw, over his neck and collar, lips skimming his chest, stomach, licking the dip of his hips, and then-

“Oh, _shit_ ,” he groaned. Her lips slid over the head of his cock and pressed against the flesh gently, sucking softly. “F-fuck…”

When her tongue started to flicker across the slit at the top, he gritted his teeth, and slid his fingers into her hair, watching as the plump dark flesh of her mouth left little red stains on his cock, along with glistening lines of saliva, her fingers stroking his balls. Deacon was suddenly writhing, toes curling, moaning shamelessly as the Vault dweller got him off. Two fingers closed around the base of his length and began to stroke up and down, her touch expert and thorough and sending sparks up his back. He tossed his head from side to side as she swallowed more of him down and bobbed her head, drinking in the sounds of him disappearing into her mouth. He was ashamed at how quickly his orgasm starting coiling in his gut, a hot, heavy pleasure that her attentions only fed until he was inches away from starting to fucking _beg_ Charmer to let him come.

He didn’t need to. Upon feeling him beginning to twitch, she turned ruthless, using every trick she knew to make him a moaning, shivering mess. He came in her mouth and she took it, still moving her head until he had to push her away with the sensitivity. She wiped her lips clean as he gave her a glazed expression, panting hard like they’d run the Freedom Trail.

“Wow,” he drawled, feeling the flush in his cheeks, “I could make so many puns about your codename and your ‘oral’ skills being-mmmmph.”

She cut him off with a kiss, her mouth already empty, and Deacon pulled her towel off and threw it over the arm of the couch, pulling her body flush against his. _Christ_ , it was like cuddling a hot pipe. No, that was a terrible comparison. There was literally nothing he could compare it to. Her skin was burning hot, soft and supple against his own, and he grasped at her waist, hands sliding over her ass, marvelling at the curve of her hips before tracing his fingers down her thighs. He let his right hand drift between her legs, pressing into her slit.

“Someone really likes giving,” he whispered, coating his fingers in the slick he found there. “Shit, _Charmer_.”

“Someone _really_ likes listening to you talk,” she corrected, kissing his jaw. “Mmnfuck, Deacon…”

He stroked her clit softly and watched her lift her hips to give his hand more space to move. A soft gasp left her as he began rubbing back and forth, feeling her fingers flex against his chest, and then the soft of bite of her nails as she let out another gasp, a moan, and teethed against his skin. He curled an arm around her shoulder, rolling them both onto their sides. Her thigh brushed his as she hooked her leg around his calf, and he slid his hand beneath her, pressing two of his fingers inside his fellow agent and enjoying the noise she made, a soft ‘oh!’ that curved her lips into a pretty shape, before said mouth was back to his. Her fingers clasped behind hid head to keep them together, hips rolling against his hand.

“You _are_ good with your fingers,” she breathed, between heavy kisses. “I _really_ thought you’d be.”

He rewarded her with a flick of his thumb over her clit, and her breath caught. He was grinning when she kissed him again, holding her body tightly against his.

“You thought about it, huh?” he chuckled, his fingers moving harder, faster. Charmer lost her breath and cried out softly, fingers scratching at him.

“Yes!” she finally gasped out. Christ, what an amazing confession. Not half an hour ago he’d been soaking wet and miserable, and now he was fingering Charmer until her body was wracked with trembling. He was enjoying this.

“Since when?” he murmured, nudging her jaw up to leave bites along her neck.

“F-fuck…since I met you,” she admitted, swallowing just as his teeth dug into a particular spot. “Fuck, _Deacon!_ ”

“Seriously?” he whispered. “You wanted me _this_ long and you didn’t say a thing?” He thrust his fingers a little faster and let her whimper in pleasure. He finally returned his thumb to her nub and stroked, and her hands splayed out across his chest briefly, before her nails raked sharply across the skin, tearing a pained grunt from his lips, her lips parted wide, a loud wail of pleasure shredding the air as Charmer came. She dripped down his fingers as he kept working her, slowing his hand until he pulled them out of her. He stroked two fingers over her nub as he did and she shivered at the sensitivity of the little bud.

“Oh, _Deacon_ ,” she breathed, kissing his neck. Her hand raised to cup his jaw, stroking a thumb across the raised cheekbones, and she chuckled into his skin. “Wow. Wow, I should’ve…”

“Dragged me kicking and screaming through the rain to your place, made me coffee and stripped out of your suit…earlier than this?” he asked. “Because…wow, Charmer, yeah, you really frickin’ should have.”

They laughed softly, and Deacon wiped his fingers clean on the towel he’d tossed aside.

“Sooo…” he trailed off. She gazed at him, curious. “Ready to ride the Railroad?”

He got a slap on the arm for his troubles, and he winced theatrically, even as Charmer pressed their mouths together again and reached between them, her hand grasping his semi-hard cock. The warmth and softness of her fingers quickly coaxed him into full attention, and he pressed his hands against her ass, helping her roll him onto his back once more.

“Des isn’t going to kill us for this, is she?” she chuckled, straddling him. Deacon shrugged.

“Me? No, I’m too pretty. And valuable. Having said all that, Glory might get pissed if Des murders her buddy, so even if you do die, we get to see our poster child kick someone’s ass,” he mused.

“Oh, shut up Dee,” she sighed, bracing her hands against his shoulders, but she was smiling.

“I thought you said you liked listening to me,” he tutted, grasping her waist.

“Only when you’re saying somethingohfuckk,” Charmer breathed, as he pushed her down onto him. “Deacon…uhhh…how’s…how’s your dirty talk?”

“Pretty…fuck…pretty damn good, Charmer,” he panted, thrusting up into her warm heat. It was like slick, warm velvet inside her, something Deacon had only ever touched once, but God, it was amazing. She rolled her hips, leaning back to get him at a better angle, her body heaving for breath.

“Fuck, Deacon,” the woman gasped. “Did you follow me across the Commonwealth for…uhn…for this?”

“Charmer, you wound me,” he chucked breathlessly, digging his feet into the couch to give him better leverage. She squeezed him with her inner muscles and his head fell back. “God…okay…can’t…mmnfuck, babe, I can’t…uh…I can’t say I didn’t like the sight of you in that Vault suit.”

“I’ve got like twenty more,” she giggled, looking down at him. Her eyes were sparkling with lust and pleasure, and it was doing things to Deacon’s brain.

“Oh god,” he hissed, sitting up to kiss her. “God, Charmer…that just isn’t fair…”

“I don’t play fair,” she laughed, pushing him back down and changing her rhythm. Deacon swore loudly as she did so, his eyes rolling back into his head. Her slit was clenching tightly, repeatedly, and the only weapon he had to use was to lean up once more and capture her nipple. “Ahh! Apparently…neither do you. Oh, fuck, Dee…”

“You know,” he managed, licking her breast, “I like your voice too. How’s _your_ dirty talk, Charmer?”

“Really…” she gulped for air, holding his face closer to her, “really _rusty_.”

“We…we talking the kind of rust that flakes everywhere?” he panted. “Because…you know…that’s technically dirty.”

“I hate you!” she yelled, moaning out in pleasure.

“Hot,” he groaned. He sucked hard on the captured flesh and Charmer drove her hips down onto him. Deacon released her nipple, and at the next wave of pleasure he gritted his teeth and growled. “You like being on top, babe?” he gasped. “Because you…uhh…you look _really_ good riding me.”

“I want to cuff you,” Charmer told him, letting out a sharp cry of need as he sucked on her. “Wanna…fuck…go down on you and-”

Deacon pressed his thumb to her clit and the agent fucking him scratched her nails down his shoulders.

“Deacon, you _ass_ , more,” she requested, her eyes glazing over.

“Sorry, honey,” he managed, “I’m not into humiliation.”

“Neither…sorry, _oh!_ Me neither…uhnn…”

She leaned down to kiss him, biting softly at his lower lip. Deacon found himself moaning into the embrace, his hips driving harder into her. He could feel his orgasm building again, and already she was writhing like she was losing control.

“Back to cuffing,” he chuckled.

“Deacon…you have amazing eyes,” she whispered, both hands scratching him again and forcing an arch out of him, before her fingers cupped his jaw. “Can I…oh, _fuck_ , Dee, I want your head between my legs later.”

“Shit, just gotta ask, babe,” he breathed, his head filling with images of her screaming his name as he pressed his face into that spot that drove her wild.

“I think I just did,” she giggled, riding his thumb as much as she was his dick. “Fuck…I’m so close.”

“You, _fuck_ , you thinking about my head between your legs?” he panted, and she shuddered, gasping. “That’s it, babe. Think about my mouth on your clit, sucking hard, making you say my name. I’m gonna put my fingers in you again, and you are going to _scream_.”

She did scream, and it was his name, or his codename, and when she came, she kept riding him, and he got to feel every inch of her as her climax ripped through her, hard and hot and melting her into him. Deacon thrust once, twice, and then he was spurting deep into her because Charmer wasn’t letting him go. The pressure of her on his shaft was a luxury he hadn’t had in a very, very long time, and she curled him into her arms and held tightly when they finally slowed their urgent coupling, panting into his neck.

“Good mission,” she whispered into the skin, and Deacon grinned.

“Yeah…can we please end them with beverages and sex more often?” he requested. “Because damn, Charmer, I haven’t been laid like that in a while.”

She chuckled, kissing his jaw. “Anytime, Dee.”


End file.
